


Tear You Up

by awareslaura



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 07:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11618739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awareslaura/pseuds/awareslaura
Summary: It was the night they met Negan, he and his Dad had gone off in the RV leaving Carl and the rest of the group with his band of Saviours. One takes a particular liking to Carl, wanting to take what he wants regardless of what his leader says.





	Tear You Up

**Author's Note:**

> This fic does contain the sexual assault of a minor and hints at suicidal thoughts. Please do not read if you are sensitive to that sort of material. 
> 
> This is for my lovely annonymous on Tumblr. Hope you like it!

“So how you doin’?”

 

Carl looked at Negan confused. 

 

“Aren’t you gonna kill me? Burn my face or something?” He asked. 

 

“What? No. Well not now anyway. I wanna know how you’re doin’.”

 

“Bu-”

 

“Just answer the fuckin’ question Carl or I  _ will _ bash you goddamn head in.”

 

Still puzzled he answered the man. “I’m fine.”

 

“Great fuckin answer Carl. Real original.” Negan leaned back against the couch.

 

“Well what the fuck do you want me to say?” Carl could feel the anger building in him. How long was this conversation gonna go on for? How long was he gonna have to sit here making small talk before he was punished for trying to kill the man?

 

“Jesus Carl you were almost raped by one of my men. I wanna make sure that’s not fucked you up for life.”

 

Carl froze. He didn’t like to be reminded of that night, not just because of Glenn or Abraham. His mind filled with the memories of that night. Memories that he’d buried for so long because he knew if he let them come to the surface then he’d wasn’t sure they’d ever leave him alone. 

 

**********

 

One of the Saviours knelt in front of him, shaggy hair framed a scraggly face. Piercing, crazed eyes looked at him, Carl shivered as they trailed down his body, he looked at him like a lion looking at a piece of meat. 

 

A knife was raised and caressed along his cheek. Carl glared back at him, trying to bury the flicker of fear that was igniting in his stomach. The knife reached along and pushed the hair from his face.

 

“You’re a pretty damn thing aren’t cha?” 

 

Carl didn’t respond, best to keep your mouth shut for once. Fear burned steady as he was reminded of his encounter with the Claimers, he’d almost been… No. This isn’t like that. He’s with the group, they can’t hurt him.  _ They hurt Glenn _ his mind countered. Could any of them even stop him from being hurt? 

 

“I like the quiet ones.” The voice crept into his ear “They scream the most.”

 

“Leave him alone!” He heard Michonne shout, quickly followed by a grunt as one of the other men hit her. 

 

“Shut the fuck up” The guy said. “We’re in charge while the boss is busy and so help me God I’ll do more than hit ya if you talk again.”

 

He saw the man in front of him smirk. “He’s right. We can do whatever we like.” His eyes trailed over him again. Carl didn’t like the look on his face, he recoiled in fear as the man stood. 

 

“I’ll be back in a ten. Gonna take this one here for a bit of private time.”

 

Wolf whistles and laughter echoed in his ears as he was pulled up and dragged away. He saw Michonne take another punch after she’d gotten up to help him. No one could help him now. He prayed his dad would come back, that he’d help him. 

 

No one came. 

 

After a few minutes of stumbling through the forest he was suddenly shoved against a tree. Taking advantage of the momentary freedom he tried to run but was immediately grabbed around the waist and thrust back against the bark. He tried to fight, squirming in the firm grip as he tried to escape. He didn’t know where he’d go but he had to get away from the groping hands. 

 

“Fuck! We got lucky coming across you.”

 

Carl was terrified. He couldn't breathe. He could feel his breath catch in his throat as the other man grabbed his ass, he could feel a hardness grind into his hip. He felt vomit burn at his throat as he realised exactly what it was. He tried to fight but his arms wouldn't move. He cried out in desperation. 

 

“Please….don't….just stop….no”

 

“No fuckin’ chance.” was the only reply. 

 

His hands finally snapped into motion he shoved at the hard chest in front of him, his vision went dark as a violent hit smacked across his face. He could taste blood in his mouth. His own? C’mon Carl you've fought zombies you can  _ stop  _ this. He brought his hands up again but was stopped by cold metal against his throat, hands hovered in the air. Could he push him away before he cut him? The metal pressed harder. Definitely not enough time he realised. He felt despair crawl over his body. A seedy smirk spread across the oily face, he chuckled as he slowly brought the knife down, shearing through the thin shirt he was wearing. Cold air hit his chest as the knife was placed against his throat again. He gulped, trying not to panic as a sweaty hand felt along his chest, Tried to block it out as the hand dipped lower. 

 

He heard the clinking of a belt, it echoed in his ears, mingling with the memory of another belt, another hand forcing him down. His breathing picked up, sweat trickled down his face making the cool air sting against his flesh. He was waiting for his Dad to save him, just like he had last time.  _ Please Dad please.  _

 

A hand grabbed at his, pulling it forward. He squirmed when he was forced to wrap his hand around hardness. He tried to pull it away but couldn’t escape the strong hold on his palm.

 

“Ah ah ah. You don’t wanna be doin’ that. You better wrap that hand around my dick and make me nice and  _ hard _ or I’m gonna go back to the road and kill another one of your friends. Got it?”

 

He nodded as best he could, he inhaled sharply when his head was yanked back by his hair. 

 

“I said..Got. It?”

 

“Y-yes yes.” 

 

“Good boy.” The man’s grip turned soft as it patted his hair. “Get to fuckin’ work.”

 

His trembling hand reached out, lightly wrapping his hand around him. He mentally braced himself, he had to do this, for his Dad, for Michonne, for everyone else who’d lost someone that night. They couldn’t handle losing anyone else, especially not because of him. He nearly threw up when he heard the man groan. Carl screwed his eye shut at the pleasured look on his face. He moved his hand almost mechanically, he didn’t want to feel any of it. Didn’t want to remember how he felt in his hand. The disgusting slickness that covered the tip. 

 

“You were just fuckin’  _ made  _ for this.” Foul breath filled his nose as it huffed in his face. 

 

His hand was released as his jeans were tugged down, cold air hit his bare ass. He flushed as the man let out a whistle, checking him over. 

 

“Let’s see if that ass of yours is as good without those jeans.”

 

He was forcibly turned and pushed against the hard bark, it bit into his cheek as a hand kept him flush with it. He flinched as a hand slapped down on his ass. 

 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” The man stepped up behind him, grinding his hardness against him. “Can’t wait to bury my dick in it.” 

 

He heard him spit into his hand. He knew what was coming next, he tried to prepare himself. He brought his hands up against the tree, curling a hand around one of the low hanging branches. A sob escaped him as a dry finger push it’s way inside him, burning a trail. The tears streamed down his face. He’d not felt so helpless since the night with the Claimers, even then he’d been more pissed than anything. Now? Now he just felt hopeless, beaten, he almost hoped that the man would kill him once he was done. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this for. 

 

The thug jabbed another finger in, almost out of instinct he lashed out hitting the man in the jaw. Panic set in, he tried to run, but his jeans were too tangled around his knees, he just ended up falling against the tree again. 

 

“You little fuckin’ shit.”

 

His hair was grabbed and pulled without mercy, he cried out as he was thrown face down in the dirt. A hard boot thudded into his ribs, he tried to curl up to protect himself but he movement sent a shooting pain across his chest. He was kicked again, he could feel his ribs crack under the pressure. Every breath felt like a knife in his chest, he clawed at the ground trying to escape the next kick. He failed, he choked out another whimper as the hard boot hit him again. 

 

Carl cried out as he felt the man’s weight on top of him, placing extra stress on his already bruised body. Hands held his hips in a punishing grip, forcing them up and back as the man pushed his way between his legs. 

 

A shout broke through the silence. He felt the man freeze behind him as the noise got louder, more voices joining in.

 

“What the fuck?”

 

The noises weren’t going away, it sounded like a fight to Carl.

 

“God-fuckin-dammit. Pull yourself together, we gotta go back.”

 

Relief flooded through him, he yanked up his jeans the second the man stepped away. Fingers fumbling as he did up them up. He followed the man back to the camp on shaky legs, he kept stumbling, falling against trees. Eventually the man grabbed his arm to drag him quicker. They walked back into chaos.

 

A fight had broken out between the groups, he could hardly tell who was who, they were tangled together. Bodies slamming against one another, punches were exchanged. Michonne was straddling the guy that punched her, beating the crap out of him by the looks of it. They were stopped by a loud horn, Negan’s RV skidding up to the scuffle.

 

Everyone fell apart from each other as Negan and Rick emerged from the RV, both looking around at their groups. Carl broke free from the tight grasp the man had on him, not caring for anyone he ran over to his Dad, throwing himself into his arms. He couldn’t stop the tears, he wrenching sobs that wracked out of him. He felt arms wrap around him, doing anything to try and soothe him. 

 

“Carl, what happened? It’s alright, I’m here.”

 

“Does anyone wanna tell me what the FUCK is goin’ on here?” Negan looked around, waiting for someone to answer. “I leave for five fuckin minutes, and come back to find you all fightin’ like preschoolers, with a kid bawlin’ his eyes out.”

 

He hit Lucille against the RV. The noise ricocheted around them. 

  
“Someone better fuckin’ answer me NOW.”

 

“That bastard over there took Carl away!” Michonne spoke up, eyes glaring at the sweaty man. “The rest of your  _ men _ started on us when we tried to stop him.”

 

“Riiiight…” Negan sauntered over to the aforementioned man. “And just what the  _ fuck _ were you plannin’ on doing when you went off with the boy huh?”

 

“I...uh...I..we...uh.”

 

“Uh...but...uh.” Negan mocked him “You better start makin’ some sense or I’m gonna have to start  _ knocking _ it into you.” 

 

“We-we were just gonna have a talk.” 

 

“A talk? Is tha’ right?” Negan asked. He walked over to Carl and pointed at him with Lucille. “A little talk caused this badass to cry?”

 

The man didn’t respond. 

 

“Yeah I didn’t fuckin’ think so.” He smashed Lucille against his head. The man fell to the ground, hand raising to try and stop the bleeding, crying out in pain. 

 

“You wanna start talkin’? If you tell me the truth this won’t be so bad. So I’m gonna ask you again. What. Did. You. Do. To. Him?”

 

“I...shit… I wanted to…shit…” Negan watched the pathetic excuse for a guy in front of him cry. 

 

“How about I help you out here? You were gonna go into the woods and make him your lil bitch right? Get yourself some ass cos God knows you’ve not had any recently. Am I right?”

 

The man sniffed and nodded. 

 

“Fuckin’ thought so.” 

 

Negan slammed the bat down once on his head, blood splattering over the ground. Not quite enough to kill him. Not yet. He knelt next to the groaning man and yanked his head back by the hair.

 

“Did you think I'd fuckin let you get away with that shit?”

 

The man was punched across the face. 

 

“I asked you a fucking question you piece of shit.” 

  
“N-no Sir I’m sorry. So sorry.” Carl almost smirked at how pathetic the man was, trembling on the ground, face covered in blood. He couldn’t wait to watch the life drain out of him. 

 

“I bet you’re fuckin’ sorry.”

 

Carl couldn’t help but watch as the bat was brought down again and again. The ground was covered in red, chunks of the man’s skull spread across the floor, he saw a stream of the blood head towards him in the dirt. He was fascinated by it. He felt sickened by the flash  of lust that spread through him as he watched Negan demolish the man’s head. He really was fucked in the head. 

 

“As a reminder to you all _ THAT _ is what happens when you go against my rules. No one rapes ANYONE. I am in charge. Not any of you fuckers. Go against me and you’ll end up like this fucker here.” Negan turned back to Rick, briefly gazing at the still-crying boy in his arms. “We’ll be over to visit in a few days. Get your shit together and prepare for it.” 

 

Leaving the man’s body behind Negan and the remaining Saviours clambered back into the cars and left. Turning, Carl buried himself in his Dad's arms. He couldn't stop shaking. He kept replaying it in his head. He could still feel hands grabbing at his flesh, burning their mark across him. He could feel the teeth at his neck, the vile stench of the man's breath against his face. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get over this. He cried as he heard the RV drive away.

 

**********

 

A click of fingers brought him back to the present. 

 

“Oh hey! Nice of you to join me again.” Negan was crouched in front of him. When had he moved?

 

“S-sorry I’m sorry. I didn’t...got lost in a thought.” Carl replied.

 

“Yeah, looked fuckin’ like it.” Negan sat back on the coffee table that rested between the two couches. Carl felt himself withdraw from the penetrating gaze. Why did he have to bring that night up? Probably another one of his fucked up mind games, he probably wanted to know just how badly his men had fucked him up. Wanted to know about all the sleepless nights he had, all the secret panic attacks that he’d had at the smallest reminder of the attack. Even the feel of bark had his heart racing, instincts telling him to run and never stop. He knew his attacker was dead but that didn’t stop him from sitting in bed at night, hand curled around his knife, waiting for him to try and hurt him again. Negan wanted to know how he was? He was stuck. Caught in that moment, trapped and never able to escape. 

 

He could have told him that, could have screamed at him, try to make him feel bad about what his man had done. Instead he simply replied, “I’m fine.”

 

The anger built again when Negan scoffed at him, he was about ready to boil over. 

  
“Sure you’re fine, you’re a badass you’ll always be  _ fine _ .” Negan said. “However a badass still needs to get some fuckin sleep and you look like you’re one of those fuckers walkin’ around outside. So lemme ask you again, how are you doing?”

 

“I get enough sleep.” Carl protested. 

 

“Sure you do.” Negan stood, picking up Lucille he did a few practice swings. “So what’s keepin’ you up at night?”

 

“Nothing.” 

 

Negan pointed the bat at him. “Don’t fuckin bullshit me Carl. You came in here, guns literally fuckin blazin all over the place. If I want some damn honesty you better fuckin’ give it to me.”

 

“I don’t sleep because….” He felt lost for words. How on earth could he possibly describe how he felt? He sighed. “...because I feel so damn helpless all the time. It’s like I lie awake every night hoping that I’ll have a chance to prove to myself that I’m not weak. That I’m worth staying alive for.”

 

Negan stopped what he was doing. He sighed, he wished he could bash that damn idiot’s head in all over again. He shoulda done it when he saw him eyeing up one of the kids dishing up the food, it would’ve avoided all this. 

 

“C’mon kid, let’s go. Got something else I can show ya.” 

 

Carl stood to join him, he wondered what else he could possibly have to show off. He trailed behind him as they walked through the sanctuary, the constant kneeling before Negan got boring real quickly. He rolled his eyes each time the worshippers knelt before them. He was grateful when they headed outside into a more remote area, there was no one around, merely a couple of snipers overlooking them in towers. Was he gonna kill him?

Negan led him over to another fenced enclosure, Carl was shocked to see it filled with walkers, only a dozen or so but he was amazed that Negan would keep them inside the walls.

 

“What are they doing here?” Carl asked. Was Negan going to throw him in there? Was that his punishment? Getting torn apart by those monsters seemed like a harsh way to go even by Negan's standards.

 

“They’re here for practice. It helps new recruits be less useless when we’re out of the boundaries.” Negan gently hit the fence with Lucille, attracting the attention of the inhabitants. “Today it’s gonna be your therapy.”

 

“Therapy?” He questioned coming to stand beside him.

 

“Yep, you’re gonna take Lucille, go in there and remember what a badass you are.” He offered Carl his beloved bat.

 

Carl took it,looking it over. He could use it now. Bash Negan’s head in, sure he’d been killed right after but it would mean they could be free from him. Somehow that didn’t seem right to Carl, this was a man that had killed for him, now he was trying to help him. The man was full of strange paradoxes.

 

Negan opened the door and gestured for him to enter. 

 

“You ready?”

 

Carl focused his eyes, feeling the weight of the bat in his hand he strategized the ways he could kill the walkers. He could do this, he was a badass. He entered the enclosure, raising the bat as the first walker stumbled over to him. 

 


End file.
